


Searching the Skies

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: RWBY
Genre: Christmas Presents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, ozqrow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: When Ruby runs into Ozpin just days before the holiday, she's shocked by how low he seems. He insists that the kindness he sees in her is present enough, but the idea of anyone going without a holiday gift rankles Ruby like little else.With some multi-team plotting, help from the faculty, and a bit of seasonal spirit, Ozpin might just have a happy holiday after all.





	Searching the Skies

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS! I was determined to throw together some seasonal fluff to combat the angst of Volume 6 - and I just barely succeeded. Hope everyone enjoys :D

  
There was nothing weirder than spotting a teacher out in public.

Ruby froze with a sweater in her hands, edging a little farther around the rack of clothes to get a better look and… yep. She’d know that suit anywhere. Not many people in Ruby’s life tried to pull off an all green aesthetic.

“Did you want to say hello, Ruby?”

Busted. With a grin Ruby hopped out from behind the display, holding the sweater out in front like a soft, fuzzy barrier between her and this unexpected encounter. It wasn’t bad or anything, just strange. What did you say to your headmaster when you found him shopping in a Vale boutique on a Saturday afternoon? Are final grades in yet? Sorry about putting a hole in your cafeteria ceiling? Hmm. Maybe Ozpin knew what he was talking about and a simple ‘hello’ would do.

Ruby settled for a wave, sleeve of the sweater flapping. “I was trying to decide,” she said, honest and awkward. “Are you doing holiday shopping too, sir?”

Ozpin smiled. Looking closer, Ruby could see how much more casual he appeared outside of Beacon’s walls. His suit jacket was gone, leaving only his green turtleneck and a pair of dark slacks—both of which appeared kinda wrinkled. Ozpin still had his cane with him, but it was hooked over his arm as he browsed through a collection of scarves. His free hand gripped tight to a takeout coffee cup. It was the first time Ruby had ever seen him without his mug.

He looked… tired.

“In a manner of speaking,” Ozpin said. The circles under his eyes were pronounced, but his smile was as soft as ever. “I assume that this is to be a gift?”

Ruby held up her choice: a pink cable-knit sweater long enough to act as a dress. At least on her. “Uh huh. Normally Yang and I couldn’t afford anything from a place like this, but Dad gave us some extra spending money this year. Since we’d be making all new friends at Beacon and all. This is for Penny! Oh,” she corrected, when Ozpin’s brow furrowed. “Penny Polendina? She’s fighting in the tournament after the holidays.”

“Ah yes. One of the Atlesian students.” Ozpin nodded, reaching out to rub the chosen gift between two fingers. Ruby had been stroking her hand down the back ever since she’d found it, all but outright cuddling the sweater in the store. She wasn’t sure what kind of fabric is was, but it was _soft_. And soft things were great.

Ozpin seemed to agree. Some of the lines around his eyes smoothed out. “Tell me, Ruby. How long have you known Ms. Polendina?”

“Uh…two weeks?”

“I see. And how did you decide on such a lovely gift?”

Ruby took a moment to consider. She hadn’t really given it much thought when she found it. The sweater just seemed like a Penny thing to her… and it was on sale. That last bit drew a sheepish laugh out of her but, “I just thought she’d like it. I mean, Penny prefers dresses, but it’s getting colder, and this would look really cute over the dress she normally wears! I think. Plus, it matches her bow.”

“Hm.” Ozpin had moved them into a corner of the shop and out of the other customers way. He set his coffee aside and sat on the little shelf holding all the pants. At this level they were eye-to-eye and Ruby could see just how warm Ozpin’s gaze was. His eyes looked a little like Dad’s.

“Ruby, do you have any idea how rare that is?”

She blinked. “Buying sweaters? Yang says it’s not very exciting, but I know Penny better and she’d definitely prefer—”

“No, no,” Ozpin chuckled, waving a hand to disperse her words. “ _That_ , Ruby. Your commitment to finding something that Ms. Polendina will enjoy. You’ve known this girl a mere two weeks and she’s a soon-to-be rival in a competition I know you’re eager to win.” Ruby gave a crooked grin and shrugged. Fair assessment. “Most students would find other ways to spend their Saturday than using their limited funds on a gift for, if I may be blunt, a virtual stranger. They certainly wouldn’t put as much thought into it as you have.”

“…Thanks?”

Usually Ruby gobbled up praise, bragging about her awesome abilities when Yang brought them up, or hanging off Weiss’ arm, eager for even a scrap of approval. She’d been serene all those months ago when Ozpin had compared her scythe skills to Uncle Qrow’s, but that was fighting. Not shopping. It felt weird to receive compliments for something she hadn’t worked for and Ruby found herself stumbling over something else to say.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face because Ozpin merely tipped his head forward, expression vaguely amused. “My point precisely. You are kind, Ruby, and you inspire others to be the same. I’ve lived a long time and you’d be surprised by how rare a trait that is. I ask only that you remember this and do your best to maintain it.”

Ruby opened her mouth to argue because no, it wasn’t rare at all. _He_ was kind—Ozpin had let her into Beacon!—and so was Yang, Blake, even Weiss in her own way. She’d never met anyone who was as patient as Pyrrha, or who could make her laugh like Nora; Ren was always the first to offer help and Jaune had been her very first friend here. Ruby wanted to tell him about Coco complimenting her dress, or how Velvet would share her dessert at dinner, or that time Professor Port curved the whole class’s grade just because he said they looked tired…

That was it. Ozpin looked the same, and Ruby had the sinking feeling that bringing up all those examples would somehow ring hollow. He was almost slumped on that table, coffee gripped tight between both hands, his cane now leaning against his knees but sliding precariously. They were tiny details that meant little alone, but built up into something in Ruby’s mind that she couldn’t quite name. Ozpin did look like Dad… just not when he was smiling.

Ruby kind of wanted to ask if he was okay, but you didn’t do that with teachers. Did you? No. Especially not outside of school when you caught them on their day off, hair a tousled mess and cheeks pale from the cold. Anything Ruby tried to ask would come off as rude or selfish, like he wasn’t allowed to look this way just because he’d unexpectedly run into her. Not to put too fine a point on it, but it wouldn’t be particularly kind.

Ruby settled for a thumbs up and the brightest smile she could muster. “Promise, sir! Maybe that can be your holiday gift.”

She’d meant it as a joke. So why did Ozpin nearly drop his coffee, startled in a way Ruby had never seen before?

It was gone as quick as those hints at exhaustion, erased with a quick stand and a tug at his shirt. Ruby had caught it though, briefly, and when Ozpin reached out to touch her shoulder his grip was just a little more tight than it needed to be. Like he was using her for balance.

"Then allow me to give you a gift in return,” he said. A little flick of his fingers and they were heading towards the check-out line.

The boutique was crowded, packed with people doing last minute shopping, but Ozpin was _Headmaster_ Ozpin—and Ruby was far from the only one to recognize him. Within seconds an additional register had opened and a girl with cat ears like Blake’s was eagerly ringing them up, chatting animatedly about the upcoming holiday. Ozpin gave her polite smiles, small words of encouragement, and a shining credit card that he slid across the counter. It took Ruby too long to realize that the woman was ringing up _her_ sweater.

Ozpin hooked his cane back over his arm and gently tugged it from her grip.

“Professor! I can’t—”

“Ah, I’ve never liked that phrase,” he said lightly, smoothly cutting through her protest. “ _I can’t_. Surely those aren’t the words of a Beacon student? Or the soon to be champion of the Vytal Festival? If you can cut through that Nevermore, Ruby, I have every expectation that you can humor an old man for just a moment.” Ozpin turned slightly, dropping her a wink. The saleswoman beamed.

It felt like manipulation. Glorious, money saving manipulation.

Ozpin didn’t seem to care about the looks he attracted, especially when Ruby continued to splutter and wave her arms through the purchase. He paused only to ask if Ruby wanted the sweater gift wrapped or if she’d prefer to do that herself? And when Ruby puffed her cheeks and refused to answer, Ozpin nodded towards the red paper with bright gold bows.

“You can always re-wrap it if you’re dissatisfied with their work here,” he said, as if wrapping hadn’t been an extra ten lien.

Five minutes later they were both exiting the shop, Ruby gripping tight to her bag, radiating the specific kind of embarrassment that apparently occurred when you found your teacher in public and they bought you stuff. The only thing keeping her from protesting more was remembering that Ozpin and Uncle Qrow seemed really close. It was basically like buying for family, right?

That, and Nora’s rambles about how Ozpin owned a whole big, shining school. So yeah. He was probably rich.

In the end, nothing remained but her manners. Ruby bowed low like her dad had taught her and was surprised when Ozpin’s hand reached out to ruffle her hair.

“Think nothing of it,” he said. “Now you can put that money towards something for yourself. My treat.”

“Is that what you’re doing, sir?” Ruby peeked up from beneath her bangs, eyes snapping between Ozpin and the storefront. He didn’t have any bags with him and he’d said before that he was only doing holiday shopping of a sort. “Why not just put that pretty scarf on your wish list? I’m sure your family would be happy to get it for you. Or Ms. Goodwitch!”

“Ah, I’m afraid adults don’t put quite as much stock in gifts as you kids do.” Ozpin tapped his cane twice on the sidewalk, looking out over the city. The dark clouds suggested snow was coming. “Ms. Goodwitch has never been one for frivolous expenses and the faculty expects nothing from me except a kind, holiday bonus—which I am happy to give them. I fear my family passed some time ago.” He looked back, eyes tired, cheeks hollow, smile unwavering. “And it’s not as if I really need another piece of green clothing in my wardrobe, hmm? No, no, I’ll be satisfied this season knowing that you and Ms. Polendina are developing such an excellent friendship. Do enjoy yourself, Ruby. Times like these are meant to be cherished, after all. Go on now.” The cane reached out to lightly nudge her leg, steering Ruby back towards school. “It’s getting late and we wouldn’t want to miss dinner, now would we?”

Despite this, Ozpin turned in the opposite direction after a nod of farewell, heading deeper into the city. Ruby was left standing on the boutique’s steps, wondering why she felt so sad all of the sudden.

Above her, the first bits of snow began to fall. Ozpin’s back—sans coat, gloves, or scarf—finally disappeared down the next street.

“…Nuh uh,” Ruby said and turned back into the shop.

***

Yang threw the scarf up into the air and let if fall over her face as it came back down. Blinded, she pretended to lose her balance and tipped backwards towards Blake’s bed… who simply kicked her towards the other side of the room.

“So let me get this straight—”

“There’s a part of you that’s straight?” Blake muttered, not looking up from her book.

“Ayyy, nice one, nice one.” Yang’s finger-gun ended up pointed at the window. She continued wobbling blindly around the room. “Let me see if I _understand_. You went to buy Penny a gift, Ozpin bought it instead, so you spent that free money on this scratchy monstrosity. For him.” With a massive puff Yang blew the scarf off her face. Ruby snatched it before it could hit the floor.

“Yes. And now it’s got Yang cooties!”

“I think you mean essence Xiao-Long. Increases the value 75%, guaranteed.”

“Odd,” Weiss drawled. “My family owns most of the perfume brands and I’ve never encountered such an essence before.” She turned from her desk and finally caught sight of the gift. “Well, I think that’s a wonderful choice, Ruby! Very mature. I of course gave all of our instructors small gift baskets of Schnee Dust Company products on the last day of classes. A thoroughly practical gift, though one they should enjoy as individuals as well. All the dust cartridges were tailored to suit their weapons.”

“Of course,” Yang mimicked.

“Hey! It’s always good to show your professors that you appreciate them. It’s the foundation of any lasting relationship and one of the most basic aspects of networking. Connections like these are how we’re going to make it as top-tier huntresses later on.” Weiss’ expression made it clear that—once again—of course they’d reach such a level. There was never any doubt. “Really, you all should know this by now.”

Yang looked to Blake. Blake shrugged. Ruby tried to re-fold the scarf with much grumbling about how sisters tainted everything.

“Alright. I buy that there’s some logic there, Ice Queen. But Ozpin isn’t a professor.” Yang hefted herself onto her bed, kicking off her boots in the process.

Blake dodged the one that nearly fell on her head. “You don’t think he does a lot for us here? Running Beacon and all?”

“Well yeah. Sure, but it’s not like we know the guy. He’s not Oobleck or Port. Or even Goodwitch! At least I know what kinds of books she reads.”

“Excellent taste,” Blake said.

“What am I gonna do? Go up to Ozpin and say, ‘Hi, sir! I saw you like three times at the start of the year and I think I’ve spotted you across campus in the mornings—but that was before my coffee so who can really say—and because of this super close relationship I got you a gift!’ That’s not awkward or anything.”

“…I think he’d actually really like that.”

All heads turned towards Ruby. She was staring down at the now neatly folded scarf, hand petting it rhythmically from one side to the other. She seemed lost in thought, unaware of her own words, and didn’t stir until Weiss marched over and knocked a fist against her forehead. Ruby blinked.

“This isn’t like you,” Weiss huffed. “What happened? I mean what _really_ happened? There’s more to this than you’re telling us. We’re your team, Ruby.”

For the first time since the boutique Ruby’s face lit up with a smile. Yes, that was a pretty compelling argument, wasn’t it? So she told them, smile slipping away again, trying to articulate how all the tiny things somehow added up into one big thing that made her want to hide in bed and not go to dinner. Ruby looked to Weiss and explained how tired Ozpin looked, more than teachers got at the end of the semester, and watched a spark of recognition light up her eyes. She watched Blake nod when she described how he was just a little too cheerful for it to be real. Ruby told Yang about how Ozpin reminded her of Dad—old Dad, back when Mom’s death was more recent—and the bedsheets curled tight around her fists.

Ruby was afraid that they wouldn’t get it. She shouldn’t have been.

“Okay then,” Yang said. She hopped back down, taking back the boots Blake offered her and tugging them on with one vicious motion each. “We’ve got five days. What are we doing?”

“Doing?” Ruby asked.

“I still don’t know the guy and to be frank I’m not sure I care… but _you_ do. Can’t have the little sis all upset over the holidays, can we?” Yang dove forward, trapping Ruby in a headlock and knuckling her hair. “So I’m asking again, oh glorious leader: What are we doing?”

Across from her Blake gave a small smile and another nod, setting aside her book. Weiss rolled her eyes towards the ceiling.

“I suppose we can take a break.” Her mouth twitched. “Tis the season and all.”

_Yes._

With a happy gasp Ruby flew out of Yang’s grip and set about finding paper, pens, things to _plan_ with. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of a few things between the boutique and here… but now she could actually act on them. Ruby had half the room’s craft supplies in hand when Blake stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Dinner,” she said. “We’re already late. Plus, JNPR might want to help out.”

Even more perfect. Ruby gave Blake a quick one-armed hug and stuffed the supplies messily back into Weiss’ desk. (“Hey!”) She was more careful with the scarf, setting it back in its bag until she knew exactly how to gift it.

Weiss was right. Tis the season… for traditions, gifts, cheer, companionship. If Ozpin didn’t have any of that yet, he would by the time Team RWBY was done with him.

After all, she’d been looking for a way to pay him back for letting her into Beacon early. And all those other rules they’d 'bent.'

Ruby grabbed hold of Yang with one hand and Blake with the other. She threw her arm up around Weiss’ shoulder and started dragging them all towards the dining hall.

“Let’s go!”

***

Pyrrha was, to be frank, one of the greatest students to ever cross Beacon’s threshold. Perfect grades, near perfect initiation score (following Jaune had benefited her social life if not her standing), beloved by all her instructors, peers as well, an impressive past to embolden her and a promising future ahead.

This meant that Pyrrha was the only student capable of convincing Glynda Goodwitch to leave an unmarked box on the Headmaster’s desk. _And_ keep quiet about it.

“I don’t know where it came from,” she said now, lying through her teeth as only the Headmistress of Beacon could. Parents would have burned the school to the ground years ago if it weren’t for Glynda’s poker face. “However, it looks like a present to me.”

“…Yes.”

And that was it. For a man of endless words, Ozpin didn’t seem to have any right now. Glynda watched, a little concerned, as he froze in the entrance to his office, the little package on his desk apparently enough to stop the man in his tracks. Glynda didn’t think there was anything terribly special about it: silver wrapping, a blue bow, probably only large enough to hold some generic chocolates or something. She couldn’t begin to understand why Ozpin was staring at the box like a rare grimm had taken up residence amongst his papers. Surely he received plenty of gifts from acquaintances across the Kingdoms.

…right?

Glynda murmured something about their meeting at 2:00 and quietly slipped out. She was a huntress going on nearly twenty years. She knew to trust her instincts, thank you, and right now they were screaming to leave Ozpin in peace.

Perhaps she should ask Pyrrha about the gift. But then again, perhaps Glynda should leave that alone too.

However, during the long ride down to the ground floor Glynda questioned her long-held decision to forego holiday gifts among peers. Vale winters were fierce nowadays and if Ozpin was right, their warm peace wouldn’t last forever. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to add one more bright spot amongst the darkness…

Floors above her, Ozpin was running through a catalogued list of everyone he knew and narrowing that impossibly massive collection down by who was still living, who partook in this holiday tradition, who might challenge his stance against bribes masquerading as gifts, and who would still care enough to send him something anyway.

The list Ozpin ended up with had a grand total of—wait for it—zero people.

How lovely to remember that.

That knowledge didn’t change the fact that there was something wrapped and waiting for him at 6:00am, a pop of color amongst all the forms he had to manage over the break. Setting his drink aside, Ozpin approached the box cautiously, criticizing his own inane hesitation and yet entirely unable to stop it. No doubt this was just someone’s idea of a pleasantry. Perhaps there’d even been a mistake—he couldn’t see any tag attached to the bow. Still. At the very least he could treasure the moment when possibility was still rampant. That was the real gift, wasn’t it? Anticipation?

So Ozpin took his time. He worked through the tape with intense precision, fully intending to save it after all was said and done. Had Qrow been there to see him he would have growled in frustration and torn the wrapping off in an instant, tossing the crumpled mess directly onto the floor. The image produced a laugh and all at once Ozpin felt better than he had in days. At the very least this gift had given him more than he’d started the day with. He wouldn’t expect any more.

Though, to his great shock, he should have.

It was a mug. Quite different from the one he normally carried, all black with snow drifting down in beautiful arcs. It felt heavier than normal too and a bit of inspection revealed a dust infused bottom, specifically designed to keep drinks warm throughout the day. Far more alluring than the mug’s tech though was the photograph tucked inside. Ozpin’s breath caught as he saw himself, laughing, Glynda, Peter, and Bart standing in a small circle around him, all of them mirroring his amusement. It was one of those candid shots that stood in sharp contrast to the formal pictures they took for publicity’s sake, everyone straight-backed and confident. This looked natural and Ozpin ran his finger down the image, committing it to memory.

He’d learned long ago that material possessions never lasted. How he felt about them though? No one could take that away.

Ozpin was still grappling with the weight of the gift when he spotted a smudge of ink on the photograph’s edge. Turning it over he found a scrawled note in an unfamiliar hand.

_For when you need an extra pick-me-up :)_

_Happy Holidays!_

No signature, yet Ozpin’s first thought was of Ruby. They had discussed gifts just the other day and that smiley face had a touch of her whimsy… but no. He knew her handwriting thanks to a long grading session with Bart and this didn’t feel quite like her. Ozpin fingered the wrapping, remembering smooth edges and perfectly lined pieces of tape. No. Far too neat to be the work of young Ms. Rose.

Who then?

Ten minutes later, still admiring both gifts, Ozpin decided that it didn’t matter. This was more than he’d hoped for in years, personal in a way that few had ever attempted, and he was _grateful_. If anonymity was the price of receiving this than sweet dust, what a small price to pay.

Ozpin dumped out his cocoa and made a new batch in the small kitchenette attached to his office. He carefully cleaned his new mug while the milk steamed and made a note in his scroll to buy a frame for the picture later. Something double-sided so that he could present both the image and the note. When the milk was done and he caught sight of his reflection in the clean stovetop, Ozpin was surprised to see that he was smiling.

Still haggard, but with something genuine shining through. A pick-me-up indeed.

When he left his office half an hour later with his new mug in hand, Ozpin was oblivious to the group of kids watching from the sidelines.

Day one was complete.

***

“Why me?” Coco asked.

“Oh c’mon. You’ve been here way longer than us. Plus you’re the coolest person at Beacon. Besides me, anyway.”

Coco lowered her shades to stare at Yang—who grinned and shrugged in a ‘Whaddya gonna do?’ way under the attention. With a snort Coco nodded, setting aside the magazine she’d been reading. The winter break was good for little other than lounging and extra training, both of which she’d already done plenty of. Humoring the first years sounded like fun.

Plus the Xiao-Long girl was indeed awesome. Not more awesome than Coco, but close. She’d give her that.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” she admitted, pulling out her scroll to do some quick searching. “You can find most of this at the general store downtown. Nothing extravagant. I assume that’s what you’re going for?”

“Uh huh.”

“Dare I ask what it’s for?”

“Present.” Yang rocked back on her heels, eyes drifting around the common room. They were just down the hall but had never spent much time here. Ruby wasn’t one for sitting still for long stretches. “For the Headmaster actually, but don’t go telling anyone. It’s top secret and shit.” Yang brought a finger to her lips and winked.

Coco paused in her typing. “You’re getting the _Headmaster_ a gift?” She looked down at the list she was compiling. “Of this junk?”

“It’s a long story. And trust me, the guy’s gonna actually appreciate it. It’s kinda sad really…”

Huh. Weird. Then again, when was Team RWBY anything but? Coco sent Yang her suggestions and watched her jog off, feeling like she was thoroughly out of some loop.

Coco didn’t _like_ being out of the loop. That was kind of her thing.

Scroll still in hand, she sent off a rapid text to Velvet, asking her to pick up some more of those candles she was buying for her mom. Coco had a bit of extra lien this month… and didn’t need to understand the game to play it.

Across campus and six hours later, Ozpin found a gold box placed directly in front of his office door. He nearly tripped over it. Not because it wasn’t noticeable—it certainly was—but because it was so very unexpected that Ozpin’s body kept walking even as his brain briefly glitched.

He ended up doing a hop-skip number to avoid stepping on it, grateful that there was no one around to see his sudden, impaired attempts at balance. Mental note: delete that security footage later.

“Who are you?” Ozpin whispered, addressing the box like he would a stray that had sought shelter against his door. He reached for the package, hesitated, then scooped it up with a speed and precision more befitting a huntsmen. Ozpin was inside his office and behind his desk in record time, feeling a sense of eagerness he thought long gone.

He was just as precise this time, though not nearly as slow. Within moments Ozpin had the paper off…now faced with a strange and utterly unexpected phrase.

“Beacon Survival Kit?” he read.

That’s what was written on the front in big, glittering letters. Literally, given how much of it fell into Ozpin’s lap when he went to remove the lid. Glancing down at his ruined suit he resigned himself to looking like a night club reject for the rest of the day.

Ah well. This was far more interesting anyway.

It did, indeed, seem to be a survival kit. Of a sort anyway. What at first glance appeared to be a random collection of objects quickly re-arranged themselves into just the kind of goodies that would brighten someone’s day. Ozpin found a handful of chocolates along with a small stack of cocoa packets. There were a worrying number of alcohol bottles, the miniature ones that he sometimes saw in hotels when he traveled. Besides the food there was a bottle of aspirin, sunglasses, a book of supposedly inspirational quotes that appeared to be 75% cursing, a stress ball, socks, scented lotion, a small pocket knife—what in the world?—and something labeled a weather rock. The instructors informed Ozpin that he should leave the rock outside his window for the best results. Rock wet? It’s raining. White? There’s snow. Rock gone? Probably a tornado.

Ozpin had his hand pressed hard against his mouth, laughing until tears pricked at his eyes. He didn’t even notice the note at first. It was tucked between the cocoa packets.

When he unfolded the paper three smaller ones fell out. Ozpin’s eyebrows crawled into his hair as he found homemade tickets. According to the tiny print, these were vouchers for one free favor each. All Ozpin needed to do was hand one in—he’d know to who. Eventually—and they’d take care of whatever he wished. It was both a shocking and heart-warming gesture.

Ozpin tucked the slips away. The note itself was written in the same, fine hand.

_Life is hard—but it’s also a blast! Dive in here whenever you need a spot of fun._

What excellent advice. Ozpin slipped on the sunglasses and on a whim took a picture on his scroll, sending it off to Qrow.

_What do you think? Suit me?_

**_where the ever loving fuck did you get those_ **

_They were a gift._ Just typing out the words sent something warm singing through Ozpin’s chest. _You didn’t answer my questions though. Shall I take them off?_

**_…do not_ **

Ozpin choked at how fast that text arrived. He had the sudden, sure thought that Qrow was saving a copy of that picture.

Well, that was why he’d sent it in the first place.

Later that night, after Ozpin had wasted his day chatting with Qrow, sending him the best excerpts from the quotes book, he went back to erase his embarrassing moment before Glynda ever saw it. During the process it occurred to him that he could easily see who had left the box by his door…

Ozpin’s hand hesitated over the keys, but eventually pulled back. Whoever this was had their reasons for remaining anonymous and their little favor vouchers implied a later reveal. Besides, it certainly added to the fun.

Ozpin sat back. There was officially a pattern. He didn’t dare formulate the thought completely… but a part of him hoped there was something waiting for him tomorrow as well.

***

There was.

Another text from Qrow woke him.

Ozpin was well attuned to the sound. He had to be. Too many people relied on him and in this digital age, Ozpin relied on his scroll. A text this early in the morning could mean anything from a disaster on campus to a disaster of Salem-esque proportions. Either one was too much to deal with when the sky beyond his window was gray and bringing more snow. Still, Ozpin had shucked off his covers and was sitting up in record time. It wasn’t like he slept much anyway.

However, the text was gibberish. Supposedly. Ozpin tried to kick his mind into gear and remember if this long string of numbers and symbols was a code he’d set up at some point. How embarrassing if he’d forgotten his own security measures.

…he was pretty sure he’d never developed code that had a long drawn out ‘AHHHHH’ in it though. Seemed a little on the nose.

_Did you booty call me?_

**_FUCK. oz. we talked about this. u can’t go using slang you don’t understand. a booty call is not the same thing as a BUTT DIAL_ **

_**…also yeah** _

_**sorry** _

Ozpin hardly noticed the lecture though. As soon as he’d looked up from his scroll he noticed something off about his room—namely that there was a thing hanging outside his window. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, cane in hand, he approached the strange shape cautiously.

Ah. It was a sign. Because that made perfect sense.

Ozpin pinched the bridge of his nose and briefly shut his eyes. When he opened them again, yes, there was still a sign hanging outside his window, a prominent bow attached to the left corner. His first thought was to wonder who in the world would climb all the way up to the top of Beacon tower… until he realized that the answer was the entirety of his school’s enrollment and a good portion of the faculty. It was a school for huntsmen after all. Expect the unexpected.

Part of the mystery solved (not), Ozpin inched forward until he could get a clearer look. The sign, he quickly realized, was quite the lovely thing. Hand carved. Dusted with the morning’s snow. In all caps was written,

_Strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet_

“What a lovely sentiment,” Ozpin breathed. The windows at this height didn’t open easily, but they _did_ open. After a moment of fighting with the long disused lock Ozpin managed to sneak his arm out into the cold and retrieve his prize. It was then that he found the note attached to the back. Same handwriting, different tone:

_If all strangers are future friends then I guess that makes you family! Happy Holidays!_

He did know this person then. That had been fairly obvious, but it was reassuring nonetheless. Someone here—someone he already cared for—was going through quite a bit of trouble on his behalf.

Smiling, Ozpin brushed the snow from the sign and set it across is bureau, in a place a prominence where he’d never fail to see it each morning. It was, in many crucial ways, a reminder of what he was fighting for.

As Ozpin got ready for the day—humming a merry tune he’d learned, oh, several hundred years ago—Oobleck was still standing out on Beacon’s grounds, wondering why his morning walk (well, walking for him anyway) had been interrupted by the image of his boss, still clad in green pajamas, leaning out of the tower’s topmost window to retrieve what looked like a hunk of wood. A hunk of wood with a bow, though. So. Present?

One hand slammed into the other. That’s right! Presents—the holiday was upon them! He and Peter had always taken their cues from Glynda, at least when it came to navigating the social aspects of faculty life at Beacon. She’d assured them their first year that no one expected gifts to be exchanged…though now she’d been making noises about buying them all a little something. Just trifles really. She downplayed the sudden change, but Bart was rather looking forward to it. He and Peter had planned to shop for her this afternoon. They should absolutely pick up something for Ozpin as well.

Bart turned back towards his own apartments, mentally singing a carol that, unknown to him, was a highly evolved version of the one Ozpin was humming above. He hoped that, whatever was going on up there, Ozpin enjoyed this wintery morning.

***

Ozpin did indeed. There was another surprise waiting for him when he left for the day. Two, actually.

Hanging on the knob of his door was a stocking—pink and white and rather sloppily made—though Ozpin found the overall effect to be charming. In turn, the stocking was stuffed full of various homemade treats. Hefting the spoils up, frankly surprised it hadn’t damaged his door with its weight, Ozpin peered down to find various cookies, brownies, chocolates, and, oddly enough, a special pancake mix. The sugary treasure was topped with a small, printed booklet that provided Ozpin with each of the concoction’s recipes.

His expected notes were tucked one on each side. Ozpin opened them in order (they were labeled) to find:

_1\. Hope you had sweet dreams!!!!!!_

_2\. Now finish them off with an equally sweet treat._

For breakfast? …absolutely. Ozpin felt no guilt selecting a brownie on his way downstairs, the stocking tucked under his arm and drawing numerous looks from those who hadn’t left yet to be with their families. Ozpin happily handed out cookies and candies to any student who stopped for some brief conversation. After all, the sweetest part of a treat was being able to share it with others.

He’d have to set aside some for the next time he saw Qrow.

***

“One,” Ruby hissed, staring around the store like someone might question what they were doing there. Despite the fact that they were, in fact, doing exactly what they were supposed to. “He only needs one!”

“No one ever just needs one,” Blake said. She didn’t lift her eyes away from the selection, still deliberating.

Beside her Ruby groaned and thunked her head against the shelf. “We’re gonna be here for _forever_.”

“You’re the one who started all this.”

“Yeah, but when I did I didn’t know it would mean shopping with you!”

Blake’s lips twitched up into a small smile. It had taken her months, but she’d finally learned to recognize when insults weren’t actually insults. Or complaints truly complaints. For all the noise Ruby was making, she’d stuck by her side like glue and had demonstrated no true intention to leave.

Blake nudged her in the ribs. “You could help me choose something.”

“Something _more_ you mean.”

“Think of it this way, would you be satisfied with just a single weapon in your arsenal?”

Ruby’s eyes lit up. She straightened, regarding their task with a more measured approach. “…Oh.”

“Exactly.” Blake gestured to the shelves. “These are weapons. Now we need to choose the ones that will best fit the headmaster. All of them.” She pulled a small wallet from her jacket and waved it for inspection. “I’m good for it. Plus everything here is used, so.”

But Ruby was already ignoring her, pulling options down and examining them closely. Blake didn’t mind. It’s what she’d do.

And what she did. The two girls worked on in silence.

***

“Good heavens.”

Ozpin arrived to find a small mountain of books organized outside his door. None of them were wrapped—there was just a massive, quite precarious pyramid with lights draped around it (plugged into the nearby outlet) and a bow stuck on top. Like some strange, paper laden tree. He tried to tiptoe around the structure, failed, and resigned himself to moving the whole thing if he wanted to get back into his office.

Not that this was a bad thing necessarily. Oh no. Forced to abandon work to look through this generous gift instead? How horrible.

A part of Ozpin was relieved though to find that each book had a cracked spine and folded pages, clear signs that they were used and, by extension, likely cheap. Just a few lien each, if his hunch was right about which little shop in Vale they’d come from. Ozpin sighed with pleasure, seating himself directly against the wall and breathing in the distinctive smell of old books. He ran his fingers over the spines, picking out everything from popular romances, to mysteries, to histories of Remnant. The latter was always entertaining, considering his unique perspective on those events.

It was a wide, but well selected variety of choices. The sort selection befitting one book lover to another, banking on their own experience that any knowledge—any story—was worth sharing. Ozpin tried to remember the last time he’d carted one of his books around where someone on campus might see… and acknowledged that it might have been yesterday. And many days prior to that.

Carrying a cane, mug, and novel wasn’t always easy, but he managed.

His note was in the topmost book, acting as a bookmark. In fact, Ozpin quickly realized that it _was_ a bookmark, plain white with that elegant cursive looping down the side:

_Sometimes when the world seems bleak the best thing is to dive into another_

Nodding, Ozpin stood and, leaving the structure where it was, took a picture of it for prosperity. In the spirit of the season he sent that off to Qrow as well, hoping he wasn’t being a bother.

The speed with which he received a text back was reassuring.

_**holy shit. another gift?** _

_Indeed. I have been most blessed this season. Speaking of, will you be attending the party tomorrow night?_

_**heh. that a compliment? but no, sorry oz. you know I’m on a mission - entirely your fault btw. try to have fun though? it wouldn’t be the holidays if we didn’t get to hang with a bunch of investors and administrative types while they got drunk off of cheap-ass eggnog** _

Qrow did have a point. The Beacon party—open to all adults associated with the school, be them parents or donors—always ended up being a careful balancing act of strategic conversation and false holiday cheer. Ozpin couldn’t say he was looking forward to it. Though he’d admittedly been able to put it out of his mind more easily with all the lovely gifts he’d received. Though knowing that he wouldn’t have someone as marvelous as Qrow beside him tomorrow was an unexpected blow.

_I look forward to your company when you’re through then. Remind me that you’re in need of brownies_

_**okay?? mildly confused but not gonna question it** _

Just like Qrow. With a shake of his head Ozpin pocketed his scroll, took one more moment to admire the book tree, and then began collecting it all until his arms were filled. It would take him quite a while to cart it all inside and organize it.

Excellent.

***

“Utterly inane…”

A day later Ozpin’s mood had taken a serious nose-dive. Gone was the warm glow his gifts had produced and in their place was the furiously frustrating knowledge that he _wanted_ to strangle many of the people he’d been forced to spend the night with and—sadly—could not. Qrow had been right. Nothing like a bunch of suits telling huntsmen how they should and should not run their facilities, despite having no experience with the job themselves, to deal a serious blow to one's mood. Truly, nothing compared to the arrogance produced by a safe, cozy life.

“But smile, Ozpin,” he muttered. “It’s the holidays.”

He was being uncharitable. Ozpin knew that. But it was hard to keep your spirits up when suffering through five hours of that political nonsense. Especially when he hadn’t had a gift today to help boost morale. He felt silly now, but… he’d honestly been expecting one. Why produce such a long series and then end it all before the final day?

Now he was just being greedy as well as uncharitable. Ozpin shook his head at himself, taking a deep, long breath. He had the rest of the night ahead of him and was determined to make the most of it. He might not have any company or any more gifts to open, but there was a hot bath in his future and the remains of his sweets. That would more than suffice.

Ozpin had built himself up to enjoy these things. He was mentally prepared for that bath and those cookies.

Not this.

“Sweet dust!”

Ozpin raised his cane. It was an instinctual response to opening his door and finding that his office was not as he’d left it. A difference meant an intruder and an intruder meant potential danger. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to stop searching out blind spots and actually look at the changes.

“Oh,” Ozpin breathed. Someone hadn’t just changed things, they’d _decorated_. Gone was his depressing office, transformed into a space more festive than what Ozpin had managed for the rest of his campus. There were garlands and ribbons strung across the ceiling, lights, fake snow, a massive tree set up in the corner and decorated within an inch of its life. For all the various pieces it fit together spectacularly, a theme of white complimenting the green. Ozpin felt like he’d stepped into a forrest, though one that was unexpectedly warm and with soft music playing nearby. He tried to draw in another breath and found that he couldn’t quite manage it.

“Oh hey. There you are.”

Ozpin’s head whipped to the left. Qrow strolled out of the door leading to his apartment, hand scratching his hair like he’d just woken up from a nap. He might have. The party went far longer than Ozpin had expected.

There was a big bow pinned to his chest.

“Uh uh,” Qrow said, grinning wide at Ozpin’s expression. He did a little turn as he crossed the room. “One gift wrapped and waiting for you to open.” The double entendre drew a blush up into Ozpin’s cheeks. “Go on and read the tag.”

Ozpin blinked rapidly. He opened his mouth, tried to find something to say, and failed miserably. All he could do was reach out a trembling hand to flip the paper attached to Qrow’s bow. The now familiar handwriting was revealed, but this time it had a signature underneath.

_Dear Headmaster Ozpin,_

_I hope you enjoyed your gifts over the last few days, including these decorations courtesy of the Schnee Dust Company. (Father has friends at a number of industries so these were no trouble to order. I didn’t know what sort of aesthetic you preferred though, so I hope these suffice.)_

_Mr. Branwen is a ‘gift’ from Ruby. She thought that you would appreciate her uncle’s company tonight._

_A very happy holiday to you, sir._

_With Deepest Respect and Love,_

_Weiss Schenee, Team RWBY, Team JNPR_

_P.S. Ruby also says she hopes you like the scarf_

It was then that Ozpin realized that Qrow indeed had a scarf draped around his neck, the same one that Ozpin had been admiring nearly a week ago. He could feel his throat working as he touched the material, hand brushing against the skin of Qrow’s neck.

“The gifts, the decorations, you…” Ozpin was finally able to meet his eyes. “It’s too much.”

Qrow just grinned. “Nah. Gonna have to disagree with you there, Oz. Besides, there’s more.”

“ _More?_ ”

He pointed to the tree. Ozpin had been so distracted by the ornaments that he failed to note the presents wrapped and placed beneath it.

“I had plenty of time to snoop while you were chatting up the big wigs. You’ve got one from Bart, Peter, James—you’ve gotta let me see what Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass gave you—and a couple from other students? Do you know a Coco, Velvet, or Penny? There’s a few others mixed in there as well. Looks like word got around.”

It certainly did. Ozpin found himself staring at the small mound and felt a little faint. He told himself it was just exhaustion and that one glass of champagne.

Though it certainly wasn’t.

“You knew,” he said. Qrow was so close he could feel him nodding.

“Yeah. I knew. Kids texted me right after they started planning this nonsense, told me I needed to keep you on top of finding gifts and get my butt back to Vale by tonight. Gotta admit though, it was fun watching you act like a five-year-old each time you opened something.”

Ozpin glared. “I was perfectly refined, thank you.”

“I’ve got a selfie of you in cheap shades that says otherwise.”

“No really. _Thank you_. This—all of this—is…”

Ozpin trailed off. There was too much to say and no words that could possibly do it justice. He needed to thank the kids in person, everyone else who’d sent a gift too, they had to _understand_.

Qrow at least seemed to. His smile had grown a little softer, his body sliding closer. “One more,” he whispered.

“What?”

“One more gift,” Qrow clarified, now speaking the words directly into Ozpin’s ear. “Ruby caught onto the fact that we’re close, but I don’t think she realized exactly how close I’d prefer to be.”

A gentle finger under his chin guided Ozpin’s gaze up. He’d just caught sight of the mistletoe when Qrow leaned in for his kiss: soft, hesitant, just a question until he received an answer.

The sound of Ozpin’s cane clattering to the floor as he buried his hands in Qrow’s hair was answer enough.

He’d been blessed this year, far more than he’d ever dared thought he could be. Ozpin now had more gifts than he knew what to do with, each one producing a bright, shining light within him.

Still. He’d admit to a preference. Out of them all the light and heat that this gift produced?

Priceless.

 

**Author's Note:**

> "May you never be too grown up to search the skies on Christmas Eve."  
>  \- Unknown


End file.
